


Inktober 2020

by artispain



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Blood, Blow Jobs, Brutality, Character Death, Cunnilingus, Death, Degradation, Dubious Consent, Fluff, Gun Violence, Injury, Male Homosexuality, Multi, Overdosing, Pain, Painplay, Prostitution, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide, Triggers, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26744146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artispain/pseuds/artispain
Relationships: Broly (Dragon Ball)/Reader, Cell (Dragon Ball)/Reader, Cooler (Dragon Ball)/Reader, Frieza (Dragon Ball)/Reader, Goku Black/Reader, Hit (Dragon Ball)/Reader, Vegeta (Dragon Ball)/Original Female Character(s), Zamasu (Dragon Ball)/Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

Just using this first chapter as a warning. I’m participating in inktober as an author. I will be combining 2 prompt lists. The Goretober prompt list by @db-art on tumblr and the kinktober prompt list by h0rnyghost on twitter. Each day I will be combining both prompts in a single one shot or drabble using characters from the dragon ball universe. Mostly villains (I’m gross). I’m just writing this as a warning. Everything behind this chapter is both NSFW and lots of it will be very dark and violent. I will tag this work appropriately and try to stress possible triggers in each intro. I wanna exercise my creative filthy brain. But I also don’t want anyone to run into triggers if I can help it. STAY SAFE GUYS. And if you’re as gross as me? Enjoy the filth! :)


	2. Day 1 Imperfect Cell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> Noncon. Gun violence. Suicide.  
> Goretober prompt: Bullet  
> Kinktober prompt: Bath  
> Wrote this to 11th hour by Mushroomhead

She lays back in the slipper tub, stretching her legs and watching the bubbles foam around her curling toes which break the surface of the water.  
The fact that there’s still power is something that she hasn’t bothered to question. The world is desolation. Despair. She hasn’t seen another human in weeks before today. The androids have destroyed most of the larger cities. Little shithole towns like this one will come under fire eventually.  
At least from the androids.  
But there’s another terror blooming as well. More insidious. Quieter. And somehow much more terrifying.  
Some said it was a plague. Others said it was an exodus. Still others, crazies waving signs and screaming to the heavens, said it was the Rapture.  
But she knows better. She’s SEEN it. She saw it today. And it’s not a disease. No angels come to take the pure souls away. Not today.  
It was a monster. A beast. A THING which kills people. Drains their life. Sucks them dry then sucks up the dry bones too. Till there’s nothing left but the clothes which had been upon their backs, the tinkling of disembodied jewelry and change, the ghosts of agonized screams. And visceral terror.  
And it had saved her life.  
Truly, it had been unintentional. The thugs which had been trying to steal her food had merely been in it’s way.  
She’d emptied her pistol of all but one round on it as it had chuckled at her. As those men fought, then screamed, then disappeared. 7 rounds. 3 rapid fire. 2 more rhythmic. Then 2 more uneven and much more hesitant as her grip became numb and she’d realized that these shots were doing NOTHING. That raspy chuckling haunted and followed her as she’d fled. A brittle whisper.  
“Don’t run, little thing. You can’t escape me.”  
And now she’s in this tub. Her favorite bath bomb. Bubbles. Beyond fear. Pretending like what she’d seen had been a dream. As if she could get up, towel herself off, and the world would be normal again. But, deep down, she knows better.  
She looks at the pistol now sitting on the edge of her tub. Semi auto. One round left.  
She reaches over and picks it up. Her fingers feel fuzzy and unreal as she removes the clip. Pulls the slide back. And she idly watches the bullet plop into the water. Feels it settle on her thigh.  
She sets the gun back down, uncaring of the water and bubbles now glistening on its surface, and reaches down to grasp the little dab of metal and lead. Lifts it to watch it shift in the tiny pool of water in her palm, shiny in the feeble light of the nightlight she’d plugged in in an effort to make her home appear as empty as all the others around it. Thinks about her life. Everything she’s seen. How hopeless it all seems.  
This is her last round. And she knows that thing is going to come for her. And she knows this bullet won’t do a damn thing to hurt it. Maybe she should have fled this ghost town. But there is nowhere left to go.  
She hears a noise in the adjoining room. It’s the wind blowing thru the curtains. But she KNOWS that window had been closed. She’s never opened it. Not once.  
Her movements are rapid and fluid as she presses the bullet into the clip and slides this back into the firearm. Bops it on her opposing palm to snap the clip into place. Pulls the slide back sharply to chamber the round. Palms her wrist to steady her aim as her back stiffens and she watches the closed bathroom door.  
She listens for anything. Some furtive movement or any indication of this thing she KNOWS is in her home.  
She’s prepared for the door to blow off it’s hinges. For fire and fury and rage and roaring. For the speckled beast which she’d seen earlier to leap thru and slaughter her.  
She’s prepared for ANYTHING other than what’s actually happening.  
The bathroom door is opening. Slowly. So slowly that the hinges squeak. Why had she left all the lights off?? How stupid the idea of hiding seems in this moment.  
It’s shape is enormous, filling the little doorway. Its eyes glitter in the darkness. Demonic. And it’s already rasping out that evil chuckle.  
She raises her gun, sighting down the barrel as good as she can, aiming for the darkness between those sickle like snake eyes.  
But she doesn’t pull the trigger. She’s not even AFRAID. There is no point.  
It’s still chortling merrily as it crouches. Its nails make tiny clipping sounds on the edge of her tub as it grips here. There’s a knocking sound as it presses its forehead against the muzzle of her gun. Its voice grates along her eardrums.  
“Weeeeeeeell? You gonna pull that trigger, little girl? Hmm?” It begins to laugh, the action jarring through the firearm and into her wrists.  
But she does nothing. Couldn’t move if she WANTED to.  
Suddenly, the long fingers of one of its hands wrap around the entirety of her hands and the gun. It extricates the piece. A delicate clink is heard as it places the thing back onto the edge of the tub. Her hands drop limply into the water and she simply looks up into those eyes.  
“Pretty thing.” It’s almost cooing to her as it’s hand plunges into the water. There is no preamble. And she gasps as its fingers find her slit.  
It’s hand is self serving and greedy as it inserts its middle and ring finger right up to the last knuckle. Its thumb swirls along her clit.  
She whimpers, as a tiny sapling of fear finally blooms in her belly. She had been ready for all of the violence she’d seen this thing perpetrate earlier. To die screaming in agony. But this? Why?  
It’s quiet now. Just watching her face as the water sloshes around it’s elbow. There isn’t an ounce of mercy in it’s touch and her eyes slowly close as she gives into the urge for physical contact with another living thing.  
She mewls as she leans forward, right up to its face. Then opens her eyes again. Just looks it right in its eyes as it finger fucks her. And there is nothing within them. Just cold naked assessment. As if this creature is merely curious.  
And she comes with this in view. Her hands reaching up to grasp it’s moving bicep as her walls flutter around its probing fingers.  
It doesn’t linger. Its fingers slip from her before she’s even finished with her orgasm and she whimpers from the loss.  
“That’s enough play.” Its chuckling menacingly. “How would you like to be a part of something greater?”  
Its wagging its tail before her face now. She can see the razor tip of it moving in the darkness.  
The being leans forward and embraces her. Containment. Or ribald mockery of affection.  
She still feels only the smallest amount of fear as she calmly leans her head upon it’s hard chitinous chest. Not of this thing, but of the prospect of ending. And of the pain.  
And the pain is swift as it’s tail disappears from her vision and a burning rose of agony blooms between her shoulder blades. And instant weakness. It sighs and its arms tighten around her. Squeezing her dry in a macabre parody of a bear hug as it closes its eyes and enjoys the scent of her wet hair.  
Her hazy vision lands on her pistol on the edge of the tub. Her fingers feel numb as she grasps it.  
She knows what to use that last round on now. The muzzle is like ice upon her temple. She closes her eyes.  
And it is finally over.


	3. Day 2 Frieza (First Form)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING! BONDAGE AND PAIN PLAY  
> Goretober Prompt: Defile  
> Kinktober prompt: Bondage  
> Wrote this to Trollz by 6ix9ine

“See? This is where disobedience gets you.”  
The bonds chew into your sensitive skin as he grasps them and twists. He’s chuckling. It hurts. But the pain is divine.  
You’re strung over a table, face down, your hands stretched up over your head, your legs dangling off but spread obscenely and tied. The quiet air of this darkened room on his ship causes gooseflesh to prickle along your naked body.  
Frieza is slowly padding around you, occasionally tossing his horns, observing the way you strain against these bonds, pausing often to simply stare. Or even to cause short, sharp, painful stimulus. A pinch here. An open handed swat there. He also enjoys touching, pressing his finger in, powering that little tip in a playful caricature of a deathbeam, till its far too hot. Not marring your tender skin, but it still burns.  
A pattern soon develops. And he very obviously prefers to twist and press where the rope turns your flesh an angry pink. Nothing is excruciating. But everything he does stings. And he’s being very rhythmic, soothing many of these stings with a fluttering caress of his purple tail tip, or oddly gentle pressing with his fingers into the flushed skin.  
As he pauses behind you, you are infinitely aware of his eyes upon your naked bottom.  
“Filthy little beast. You’re enjoying this FAR too much for this to qualify as punishment.” His voice dips evilly.  
“So you like filth, do you? You enjoy defiling my will? Well……….” You can HEAR the smirk in his voice.  
“Let’s test this, shall we?”  
You’re mewling, as pathetic as a tied kitten.  
But as his icy finger strokes along your asshole, you’re CRYING. Screaming. Begging. You don’t even know what you’re begging FOR.  
And he continues to chuckle, mocking your shameful innocence.


	4. Day 3 Perfect Cell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> Injury, Stockholm syndrome  
> Goretober Prompt: Unholy  
> Kinktober prompt: Body Worship  
> Wrote this to Silver Future by Monster Magnet

The Cell Games. He’d won. Despite all of the efforts of that poor boy and his father, Cell had won. And he’d quickly set to work, destroying everything. Slowly. City by city. Savoring it. Reveling in the fear and despair. The utter hopelessness.  
You have no idea why he chose to spare you. The way he’d acted, it was as if it had been a whim. Boredom.  
He has never done anything inappropriate towards you. Has, in fact, been almost kind. Almost DIFFERENTIAL to you. Every action, one of detached curiosity, muted by the fact that you KNOW he is slowly devouring your world only to come “home" to you and behave gently, an unholy demon set upon your own soul. For what sort of human being are you if you can play house with the destroyer of your people? Your family?  
You know it can’t last forever. That he’d run out of humans. That you’d be the only thing LEFT to devour.  
And you have been remarkably detached yourself. Almost looking forward to your own end. For the farce to be OVER.  
And then, one day, he comes strolling proudly into the house he’s chosen to keep you prisoner in. Prisoner being a metaphorical term. There is nowhere to go, so you don’t bother to run.  
He pats your head as he’s done every other time, and tells you he has good news for you. He looks at you intently and tells you that he intends to let you live. To let you stay with him. As if he likes having you around.  
This is not the end you’d wished for, so you run. You wait till the next time he leaves, and you run. You figure he’ll be angry enough to give you the end you DO want. You know you cant escape. So…… why are you so afraid now?  
But you know why. You are afraid because a part of you KNOWS he will NOT kill you.  
You can barely see thru the rain. Stumbling in the darkness, only flickering lightning illuminating your way, you can’t even hear your own desperate wheezing panting.  
This isn’t real. It cant be. It’s a nightmare. It HAS to be. Any moment now, you’ll wake up. Any moment now………..  
A sharp pain lights up your ankle as you trip over something cold and hard sticking out of the sodden grass. Sopping green blades prickle against your eyes as filth fills your mouth. You’ve fallen into a puddle. And you’ve hurt your ankle somehow.  
You try to stumble back to your feet, but as soon as you place weight upon this ankle, you’re crashing back into the muck with a scream that’s half pain, half terror. Its swallowed by the roaring wind and the storm.  
And as you raise your frightened face, clawing your own skin in your desperate attempt to swipe your hair away, the lightning flashes again. And what it reveals only heightens your fear.  
You’re in the middle of a cemetery.  
This locale literally drains any fight that you have left. You know he’s coming for you. You’ve known this since the moment you’d chosen to run from him. And nobody is going to help you. There ISN’T anyone LEFT to help you.  
As you lay here, among the headstones and remnants of the old days when the dead were named, you can HEAR him. You can’t hear your own panicked sobbing breathing. But you can HEAR him chuckling over the rain.  
“Silly thing. Why are you out in the rain?” He sounds so CLOSE, but as you pull yourself up to sit on your bottom and peer around frantically , you cant see anything other than graves and mausoleums and a withered old tree, and screaming blinding rain and lightning.  
“No. Nonono….” Your ragged whispers are lost in the cacophony. Only the moving muscles in your face indicate any speech at all.  
“You never cease to amuse me. But why, little one? You are all alone and it’s dark.” The concern in his voice is almost more terrifying than the anger you’d hoped for.  
You finally drag yourself to stand on your good foot, wrapping your arms around your body as if this could protect you. And you try to limp away. But, as he said, it’s dark.  
The open grave comes rushing up at you like the gaping pitch dark maw of a fiend as you trip into it. You close your eyes, waiting for an impact which doesn’t come.  
All sense of time bleeds away in this darkness behind your eyelids. You cant really say how long you waited to fall into this literal grave. The first indication of something unnatural is the rain water sloshing off your body at an odd angle. As if you’re dangling face down.  
You open your eyes to darkness as black as when you’d had them closed. It is the open grave alright. And you’re suspended over it. Held as if some invisible force has caught you before you could be swallowed by the water and earth.  
It isn’t real. This isn’t real……. It’s a mantra screamed within the confines of your skull as your body is lifted away from the divot designed for a corpse. And as your feet come back to earth the lightning strikes again. And there he is. On the other side of the grave, arms crossed, smug smile, floating above the headstone. Eyes glowing a bitter pink reflection of the electric sky. Like an angel. A very evil one.  
“You look so afraid.” This statement doesn’t sound angry at all. It is almost detached.  
And you finally start to cry. Not because you are afraid of him. But because you are frightened of the fact that you are RELIEVED to see him.  
Your ankle sizzles with pain as that invisible force leaves you and your weight bears down upon it. You fall to your knees. He’s a flickering blurry image thru the tears and rain. Those twin eyes blaze thru tho. Before they are lost to sight as your chin drops and you cant tell if the fluids smattering off your face are from your eyes or from the sky.  
“I’m sorry.” It’s a broken little whisper. You are exhausted and cold and hungry. He has never allowed you to be any of these things, no matter his reasoning.  
“Ssshhhhhh" His tone is so very gentle and now his lips are brushing against your ear. He’s kneeling behind you.  
You don’t resist at all. You rotate on your knees and fling yourself at him. Not an embrace. Your hands are clasped together on your chest. But his chitinous chest stings as your temple smacks into it. He grunts out a chuckle as his arms wind about you.  
“Now, you are going to answer me. Why have you done this? Why have you chosen to be out here, in a TEMPEST, rather than with me?”  
“Because…… You’ve destroyed everything I’ve ever cared about.” You suddenly feel hollow as you speak. “I figured if I ran, you’d destroy me too.”  
More chuckling.  
“I’ll never harm you. At least, not intentionally. Now……. If you are telling me the truth, why do you cleave to me now?”  
You can’t answer. You’re not even all that sure yourself. But you look up at him.  
His tone doesn’t match his face. He’s almost leering at you. But you are no longer afraid of him. In fact, you feel something ENTIRELY different. As he looks down at you, cradling you as one might cradle a frightened child, the rain lashes at his face. But he is unblinking. You can SEE the drops smattering directly into his eyes only to trail down his face and drip off his lips and chin. As if he is unaffected. You suppose he most likely IS unaffected.  
You reach up to shakily cup his cheek with your hand. His reflective irises follow this movement but otherwise, he doesn’t move at all. He could kill you. You know this. He could crush out your life right here amongst these old dead. But you don’t care. Not anymore.  
Your trembling legs flex as you push yourself up his chest in jerking movements. He doesn’t stop you. His arms loosen their grip, allowing your approach. His face becomes expressionless, studying you. You blink rain from your eyes. His own eyes are simply staring.  
Your other hand cradles his opposite cheek and you close your eyes as you throw any remaining cares into the storm and kiss him.  
He chuckles, speaking against your lips.  
“What is this? Hmmm?”  
You don’t bother to answer. Simply continue kissing him very tentatively. He remains utterly motionless, neither reciprocating, nor denying. The rain continues to scream down for several minutes, the storm intensifying.  
And then he moves. You can feel his long fingers upon the back of your head as he holds it motionless and his own lips move. Toothy. Mimicking your own movements. Your belly coils almost painfully as your hands leave his cheeks to snake around his neck. He utters a sound against you. But this is more of a growl than a chuckle.  
“So this is what you want? How interesting……… very well then.”  
The hellish landscape becomes visible in swirling motion as he wrenches you from him. You know he’s strong, but you’ve never really experienced this strength yourself before now. One of his large hands has the material of the neckline of your shirt bunched within. And he’s half dragging you. You can also feel that invisible force bearing most of your weight. You don’t even know how he’s gotten to his feet again. And he’s literally dragging you at his side, calmly and sedately approaching a large flat concrete structure. A vault? You cant be sure in this storm. If it were not for that unknown force, this dragging would probably be very painful for you.  
He lifts you single handedly and with ease, depositing your body face up upon this structure almost like a slab of beef. Unceremoniously.  
You lose sight of him then. The rain is just coming down too hard for you too keep your eyes open.  
Your body flops like a rag doll as he yanks at your sodden shirt. It tears along the seam but is still very much upon you. As if he doesn’t really care if it’s off or NOT. But it is destroyed nonetheless, and you shiver as you feel the rain biting into your naked chest.  
He’s trailing his claws down the skin between your breasts and your breathing rate increases as you inhale rapidly only to cough and splutter on rain. There is no warning before his other hand cups one of your breasts and squeezes, again experimental. And you gasp again as it’s a little painful. He relaxes his grip instantly, adjusting to your body’s own tolerance level.  
“You are so very soft.” It’s a curious murmur.  
You can feel those claws, razor like, scraping delicately along the tender flesh of your abdomen. Your hands ball into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms. Painful. But you cannot help it.  
You try to blink your eyes open and, before they fill with water you could SWEAR that his gaze is worshipful. Your thighs clench and press together. You are being examined by a monster in a dead world and you are nearly mewling for more, as shameless as a harlot.  
He goes to tug at your pants and you bend your knees, pressing into the cold concrete, hissing against the pain in your ankle, lifting your entire ass up to assist his actions. He openly laughs at this.  
“Brazen. I’m actually enjoying this. How strange……..” He palms your slit thru your panties and laughs again as you writhe and cry out. Your hands leave your sides to grasp the unmoving hardness of his forearm, trying to pull his palm. To increase the pressure.  
“Please. Oh please please please.” Your begging is a series of whimpering cries. And he obliges you. The pressure becomes almost painful and yet your nails still scrape and pull before you slip one hand down and tear desperately at the cloth yourself. He removes his hand just long enough for you to tear at your own thighs in a feral attempt to remove it. And he’s chuckling at you.  
“You should have told me you had such a need. I would have sated it without this nonsense.”  
You push yourself up and grasp his neck, trying to pull him to you. And he finds this extremely amusing. Laughs against your lips as he again allows you to direct his body.  
“Mmmmmmm I hope you appreciate this. I’m allowing you things I have not even considered myself.” This time he returns your kiss. And his movements become less detached as his fingers skim the hot flesh of your now naked slit.  
And you know your soul is sold now. There will be no more fighting. No more fleeing. You are lost.


	5. Day 4 Frieza (second form)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> Injury, violence, blood  
> Goretober prompt: ravenous   
> Kinktober prompt: Marking/Biting   
> Song used: First Kill by Amon Amarth

Shrapnel stings into your skin as you turn, feeling the swift release of ki as you return a blast. Fire for fire. Power for power.   
But nothing you do seems to deter this guy. This Frieza.   
He’s chuckling. Just floating there and looking amused as hell. And he’s massive. You have no idea how he managed that transformation to this form, but its formidable.   
You however, are not afraid. With a blinding scream of outrage and fury, you power up a massive ball of energy, pouring everything you have into it.   
You have no one to back you up. But this doesn’t intimidate you. You’ve never had anyone to back you up. You’ll fight as you always have, win or lose.   
This time, unfortunately, it appears as if you shall lose. No matter what you do, he just laughs, tosses those massive curled horns, and brushes off whatever you throw at him.   
He’s literally toying with you. Exerting only enough effort to encourage you to persist in exhausting yourself. But this doesn’t reap the despair within you that it might in anyone else. He’s clearly mocking you. And you are infuriated. You let out another foaming scream.  
“I’LL BURN BEFORE I’LL GIVE UP, DAMN YOU!”  
He chortles merrily at this. His voice, deeper inflected due to his transformation, is far more eloquent than you’ve been expecting it to be.   
“Oh this is a tempting offer, little maggot. But I’m afraid your spirit is far too amusing to dispatch you so quickly. I think I’ll play with you a bit longer.”  
Your blood boils. Apparently you’ve more energy than you’d originally thought. But, before you can charge another blast…… he’s HERE.  
You have no idea how he’s gotten from there to you so quickly, but here he is. Burning pain erupts in your arm as his massive hand squeezes mercilessly, dragging you right into his embrace. And he’s having a good time too.   
“So angry. It’s arousing. Ordinarily, I’d be irritated by such irrefutable opposition.”  
You struggle and scream and roar helplessly in his arms. You are pinned. But you’ll not give up. Not ever. You snap your head forward, biting into his neck, chipping a tooth on his bio armor. His voice darkens.  
“You are quite the little stubborn fool, aren’t you. Don’t even realize how lucky you are to attract my attention in this way.” One more sentence, this time in a bubbling growl. “But I’ve always enjoyed making little weaklings like you submit.”  
He grasps your head and forces your lips to his, his other arm squeezing you so hard you cannot breathe. The biogem on his chest bruises your sternum. You taste blood as his teeth dig into your lip. The ravenous kiss of a monster.   
You had expected many things when this Tyrant had announced that he wished to exercise one of his more mediocre forms upon you. But not THIS.   
Here, wrapped in his arms, LITERALLY embraced by unfathomable power, tasting your own blood in his brutal kiss, you feel something entirely different ignite within you.   
He pulls his face away from you and grins maliciously. You can see your own blood coating his teeth, a small drop of it trickling down the smile lines at the corner of his mouth.   
You twist your head to violently spit the blood filling your mouth out into the open expanse of the sky. Then you grin right back. Every bit as wickedly as he is. He growls again at you.  
“Uncouth. Spitting in my presence.” But he’s still grinning. “I didn’t even feel your pathetic little teeth. Tell me. Can you feel mine?”  
Before you can retort, the hand in your hair wrenches your head to the side and he bites your tender skin. Right where your neck connects to your shoulder. You scream again in pain and fury. You can feel his tongue swabbing up the blood which issues forth.   
“FUCK YOU!!”  
He chuckles into your neck and you can feel the hot slick of his lips smearing your blood.   
“Your mouth is absolutely vile. I can hardly wait to make you scream in an entirely different way.”   
The arm embracing you relaxes as his hand grasps your ass and yanks this leg around his trunk like waist. You can feel his cock, rigid and greedy, pressing against your groin thru both of your clothing.  
You throw your head back and laugh madly.   
“Bring it on, my Lord. Make it HURT.”  
His grin widens even further.  
“Oh I intend to.”


	6. Day 5 Goku Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> violence, brutality, pain, injury, death  
> Goretober Prompt: Abyss  
> Kinktober prompt: spanking   
> Song used: Night Of The Wolf by Nox Arcana

She dangles helplessly for a moment before the last threads of her shirt tear and she falls, smacking painfully into the ground.   
He’s just suspended there, floating. His face is blank as he studies the shorn garment in his hand. It’s a truly strange face to her. Very human, with hair that sticks out crazily in different directions, it is a face which was once kind. There are smile lines at the corners of his eyes. This face was good natured once. The evidence is there, much more obvious due to the slack boredom upon it now.   
She can tell that this expression is foreign to this face. The lines it creates are not set into the skin as those unused smile lines are. And this creates an unsettling effect made TERRIFYING by the fact that his eyes are utterly dead. There is nothing within those cold black pupils which indicates the presence of a human soul. And the contrast between these twin dead orbs and those ghostly smile lines makes her legs feel almost numb as she struggles to her feet, now entirely naked.   
He doesn’t bother to look at her as he speaks.   
“I can smell you on this. Vile. You mortals all reek of your own putrid expiration.” His fingers curl into the fabric, white knuckle tight, before he releases it. Even as it flutters down to her feet, it no longer matters to him. He looks at the hand which had been holding her shirt as if it’s been soiled. His lips curl in disgust as he turns to settle his eyes upon her.  
There is no eye contact. He’s just looking at her in general.   
“Pray now. It is your only chance to atone for the sin of what you are. Beg me for mercy. And I shall grant you a swift death.”   
She is so afraid. There is nowhere to run. She’s trapped between a cliff face and a monster which gazes at her with the eyes of a corpse from the face of a spikey haired man. But she cannot help herself. She turns, her body screaming at her to run. And looks at the solid rock face before her. There is nowhere to run.  
His voice is suddenly in her ear.   
“You useless creatures never listen, do you? Fortunately, I am capable of conveying discipline. I’ll teach you not to disrespect divinity. I’m even feeling generous and will withhold my full power.”  
She’s wrenched back by her hair. And she gasps and kicks desperately as she’s hoisted into the air this way. And screams as she feels a sudden burning on her bottom.   
He’s spanked her. One light tap. And although he claims he’s holding back, she’s still swinging from her very hair. The agony is blistering. She needs no further punishment.   
“PLEASE! OH PLEASE!! I WON’T TRY TO RUN! JUST PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!”  
She’s dropped to the ground again. And this time, she just curls into a ball and shivers.   
“That’s better. On the ground. So very close to where you belong. You and all your fellow mortals. Now, are you going to beg me? Or shall I make you wish you COULD beg me?” The ghost of a smile flicks across his features. Those lines at his eyes finally crease. And it’s a sordid mockery of the kindness which must have lived on that face once.  
She trembles to her hands and knees, crawling to where he has alighted to the ground. And she finally starts to cry as she does just as he says. She begs him for mercy. She begs him to be swift.  
And now he’s beaming. A heartless smile. And as she grasps his dark pants and cries into them, he’s too pleased to even be upset about her soiling them.   
“Truly, if your kind had all been like this from the very beginning, you might have been deserving of all the patience we gods have bestowed upon you.”  
She looks up. From this angle, his face appears unreachable. Unreadable. His eyes, unfathomable.   
“You look like a god.” She reaches up towards that face in supplication. And when she does, her hand brushes his groin.   
His face goes instantly slack and expressionless. In the same instant, his hand grasps her offending wrist, squeezing so tightly that her very bones creak and vessels burst, pulling her hand away from him. And for the first time, his pupils shift to make direct eye contact with her.  
She cries out in pain, but does not struggle. She does not even realize her transgression. But she is not afraid anymore. His eyes are depthless, an abyss far more eternal than her darkest most depraved nightmares.   
“You look like judgement.” Even with the pain searing thru her wrist, as her hand goes numb from lack of blood flow, she is in awe.   
At these words from her, he tilts his head. This gesture would invoke curiosity in a human. But on him, it is assent.   
She reaches up with her other hand, just as supplicating as the other had been, not grasping anything. Merely reaching towards his face as a sapling reaches for light. This action mimes the same brushing as had occurred previously.   
This time, he does not snatch her hand away. Instead, he releases the first. Her hand throbs as blood is finally able to squeeze into the starving tissue. Her wrist is already blackening with a bracelet of finger shaped bruises, swelling and puckered. She neither notices, nor cares, reaching up with that one as well.   
The moment is eternal for her. He has already killed her.


	7. Day 6 Old Broly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> Not too bad. Ran outta time so there's just a bit of dubcon and violence  
> Goretober prompt: Obsession   
> Kinktober prompt: 69  
> Song used: Sonne by Rammstein

She hides behind a rock outcropping. Terror pitter pats thru her very bone marrow and she chews her nails nearly bloody.  
He’s going to find her. Of that fact, there is no question. Awakened from a dead sleep, she hides here. Frightened and in her night gown. And she doesn’t know where the other Saiyans are. He’s beaten them back apparently. She doesn’t even know where Paragus is.  
A demonic earth thundering laugh soon answers one of these questions. It doesn’t sound too close, so she peeks out from behind her temporary sanctum.  
And she sees the boy. Gohan is his name. And he looks so brave there. Tears running down his face, a small ball of light forming in his hands.   
Broly is laughing at him. And Broly is shining so brightly that she can hardly LOOK at him. He is terrifying to look at with his strange greenish glow and pale hair. She’d had NO idea…….  
He’s going to kill this boy. And she feels almost powerless. She HAS to do SOMETHING. But what??  
Only a millisecond passes before her decision is made. She stands, stepping clear of the outcropping.   
“BROLY!!! DON’T YOU HURT HIM! YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE! HE’S JUST A LITTLE BOY!”  
The large head snaps to her. Those eyes, pale and soulless with rage, affix on her.   
Gohan throws that ball of energy at him. It snaps against his body with no effect whatsoever. His focus on her doesn’t waver.   
“You……..” His face curls into a sadistic and evil smile. Her heart drops to her toes. She spares one last glance to Gohan.  
“Run.” It’s a choked whisper as her eyes meet his.   
In the next instant, Broly fills her vision. She has no time to try to figure out how he moved so quickly before his meaty fingers envelope her throat. His hand is so large that the pinky finger lays along her collar bone.   
His smile is toothy and hateful. She can smell his breath as he growls at her.   
“You want some alone time with a true freak?”  
She cant answer before he picks her up by her neck. He’s not squeezing, but being suspended like this cuts off her air. She reaches up, her nails scraping helplessly off his golden gauntlets. She can feel her skin tingling from this impossible power which radiates from his body.  
She doesn’t even realize that they are both airborne at first. Feels the wind whipping thru her hair and realizes, they are flying away.   
She stops struggling. At least the boy wont see anything.   
It isnt long before he lands and drops her onto the rocky ground, then clenches his hands into fists at his sides. He looks so angry…….  
“Broly…..” She stands, rubbing her bruised throat. “Broly, please….”  
“What? Are you going to beg me?” He’s laughing as he leans down, bringing his face very near hers. One side of his mouth is raised in a sideways grin that looks almost as a grimace.   
“Do you want me to beg you?” On impulse, she reaches up to cup his cheek.   
His face slackens into shock. And he just looks at her for a moment, before doing something that both surprises her and frightens her. His eyes close and his face turns to nuzzle into her small palm. And she can feel his lips moving as he speaks.  
“You little idiot. I have longed for this. But you don’t mean it. You just want to save that kid. It wont work.” You can feel his lips curling into that hateful smile as he continues.  
“I’m going to slaughter all of them. Kakarot and his kid. The good Prince. All of them. And then I’m going to destroy their planet. And then I’m going to destroy YOUR planet.” He begins to laugh maniacally. “I’m going to destroy EVERYTHING.”  
She feels a single tear cut thru the dirt on one of her cheeks. But she doesn’t move. Just brushes her thumb along his lips.   
“And how will you get away from me then? Hmmmm?”  
She doesn’t bother to answer.   
“No words? Where’s my begging?”   
She feels his hand, so large that the fingers easily encompass the limb, grasp her leg. And there is a dizzying shift in gravity as he picks her up and her upper body swings down. And he hoists her up, looking down at her upside down face, that horrible smile still on his face.   
“You said I was like the brother you never had, remember?”  
(Earlier that evening)  
As he sits with her on a balcony, he watches her as she watches the stars. He likes the way the dim cool light illuminates her face. He has never seen anything so beautiful.  
“I need to get home.” She turns to him wistfully. “I miss my family.” Her eyes shine as she gives him a little half hearted smile. “I’ll never forget you, Broly. You’re like the brother I never had.”  
He doesn’t like this. Not at all. He doesn’t want her to go. And he doesn’t like how she has equated him as a sibling. This is not how he himself feels about her.   
He reaches over to grasp her clasped hands in his massive ones.  
“Stay?”  
Her face becomes unbearably sad.  
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”  
And the old rage writhes and twists in his chest. As if it had never been gone. He drops her hands as if they had scalded him and quickly stands. His entire body is shaking and he can feel the seething power which had been so mercifully forgotten for such a short time.  
“Very well. Since I mean so little to you. Then GO. You stupid sniveling worthless harlot. How DARE you make me CARE about you and then toss me off as if I’m nothing.”   
She looks absolutely wounded. Her eyes are already becoming tearful and she’s just looking at him as a single droplet trickles down her cheek.   
“Please don’t be like this, Broly.”  
Now that the anger is back, this only stokes it. Makes it burn even hotter. He turns from her. Leaves her. Returns to his own room.   
Paragus has to shock him into unconsciousness this night. To no avail.  
(Back to the present)  
She looks down. Hanging like this, it means she’s looking up at him.  
“Broly…… please………. Don’t DO this. You are a GOOD person……..”  
He scoffs, cutting her off.  
“Oh I’m not good. I just had a momentary lapse in judgement the second I cared about you. But that doesn’t matter anymore. I’m going to destroy YOU too. But first……”  
He’s leering down at her. The action of picking her up has made her night gown bunch up around her neck, and her body is exposed.   
He grasps her other leg. Pulls her close, till her nakedness is pressed along the rigid musculature of his chest and belly. His body is far too hot. Yet the gold band at his waist feels almost icy on her cheek.   
She gasps as she feels his lips upon her sex. This is not an act he’s experienced with. She can feel his teeth graze across her slit before his tongue probes along her clit.   
She continues to gasp, her hands reaching forward and up to grasp the thick plumes of material on his legs.  
“Oh! Oohhh……..” She doesn’t struggle. It feels GOOD. He growls as he feels her relaxing against him. He’s not being careful, nor is he bothering with any form of grace. She can feel him slavering as he licks her. Or is she the reason it’s so wet……….  
She writhes against him then. Reaches to clutch at him. And feels him through the material. He’s hard. He’s enjoying what he’s doing to her. And she no longer feels any fear. Just a coiling pressure in her belly. She whimpers his name and strokes him thru his garment.   
His hips snap forward, a tiny movement, but it jars her entire body. It hurts. But she doesn’t care. Squeezes his cock now. He snarls into her folds and she feels his teeth on her thigh. Not biting, but there is bruising pressure. She mewls at the loss and brings her other hand to begin pulling at his clothing, trying to free him.   
He releases one leg and wraps this huge arm around her body. Uses the other hand to tear at himself. The movement is almost desperate.   
She doesn’t hesitate. The moment his cock is free, she’s upon it. Licking just as he was, before wrapping her lips around it and moaning.   
She no longer feels him ministering to her, but she can feel the hot wafting of his breath upon her thighs.   
This doesn’t last long. He rips her from him, rights her, and she can taste herself on his lips as he crushes them to his own. Her skin tingles as whatever energy is pouring from him flares. It’s so bright. She squeezes her eyes closed and kisses him back, every bit as feral.   
She feels the cold jabbing of rock at her back as he presses her into it. His entire body hunches as brings her hips to bear and thrusts into her harshly.   
There’s a wet sound as he breaks the kiss and sneers at her.   
“Am I still like the brother you never had?”  
(3 days earlier)  
“Your hair is hopeless.” She is laughing as she tries to run a comb through his thick black locks.  
Broly himself, gifts the small daisy chain in his hands with the tiniest little smirk. He’s enjoying the way his scalp feels as her little fingers brush across it, trying to remove tangles which do not exist.   
She, ever patient and persistent, just giggles at this stubborn mop, before giving up and flopping onto her back next to him. Just looking up at his face. His eyes turn to hers before quickly looking away.   
“Saiyan hair, huh.” She’s grinning.   
“You are a little fool.” But he’s grinning as well.   
She rolls her eyes as she stands up and turns back to him, offering her hand to help him stand.  
He looks at her incredulously for a moment, before ignoring the proffered hand and standing himself. She isn’t deterred.  
“We better get back before Paragus murders me for keeping you away for this long. Come on! Let’s race back!” She tosses the last few words over her shoulder as she flees towards the castle, the blades of the waist length golden grass brushing her shirt as she shrieks with laughter.   
He takes a moment to just look at her. To savor the vision of her. He knows he loves her. In a lonely life filled with hatred and rage, she calms him. His father hasn’t had to hurt him with this infernal device for weeks. Not since the day this bubbly woman crash landed on their little planetary trap.   
She had crawled out of her useless ship, brushed the debris from her clothing, and beamed at him. And he had been smitten. And ever since that moment, he had not had the slightest tingle of that old bubbling rage and bloodlust.   
He bounds forward. Doing as he has done since her arrival, following her like a massive disgruntled puppy. He could easily overtake her, but he allows her this little game. This race.


	8. Day 7 Zamasu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> degradation, death  
> Goretober prompt: garden  
> Kinktober prompt: hands free  
> Song used: Minute of Decay by MM

“You like this, don’t you?”  
He absolutely does.   
“You’re disgusting. You ACTUALLY disgust me.”  
But he isn’t disgusted at all. Laying here on this bench in this overgrown garden, near this old cabin in the middle of nowhere, he is beyond shame. Beyond caring.   
Every scrap of clothing he’d worn below his navel now lays on the old roots and moss. Forgotten. His shirt remains in place. Skin contact is of no concern to a god. His knees are hooked over the arms of this other. This being he doesn’t understand.   
Silver grey eyes give cold observance. Not at his face. Never at his face. They merely watch that connection.   
It is a brutal rhythm at an inhuman pace. The feeling of desperate hungry emptiness capped always by the feeling of delicious fullness.   
This god. This Zamasu. Fucking him so hard that his hips sting at each smacking thrust.   
His own cock lays across his belly, rigid and painfully close to orgasm. Anything, the slightest touch. And he will come on his own belly, as shameless as any human ever was.   
The alien face looks down at this. And his face creases in disgust.  
“How beautiful this world will be when you are all dead. Look at you. How much you adore my divine cock. You are all so…. Pathetic.”  
His words do not break in cadence. His breath remains unhitching. As if the action of impaling this human like this doesn’t tire him in any way. And then, an evil smile as his pupils finally flick to the mortal belly. He purses his lips. And blows.  
That is all it takes. Just that tiny stimulus. The air on his sensitive skin. He comes so hard that a thin string hits the purple sleeve of one of the arms supporting his knee. The rest of his release pools in his navel. His entire body goes rigid and he clenches around the penetrating organ.   
His head rolls to the side and he utters a high pitched moan. His eyes, glassy in ecstasy, focus stupidly on a beetle crawling the the dead leaves on the ground a few feet away.  
Zamasu finally looks at his face. Raises a hand, a small burning bright ball beginning to form. His pace increases. He’s close.  
“Vile filth. You’ve soiled my shirt.”


	9. Day 8 Vegeta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> violence  
> Goretober prompt: defeat  
> Kinktober prompt: rough  
> Song used: Meltdown by Love and Death  
> Wrote this for a friend. Calamatta is her Saiyan OC

She ducks his well aimed strike. Hisses out a laugh as her own strike cracks the pristine front of Vegeta’s royal armor.   
“I ain’t paying for that fancy shit.” She’s panting and laughing.  
She even sees his knee flying up to try to catch her chin as she ducks. Drops into a crouch and swings her leg toward his ankle to knock him down.  
He sees it tho. Leaps nimbly back, out of the range of her low sweep. She easily springs from her crouch directly at him.  
They are sparring. This prince and this Elite she warrior. It is graceful. Like a choreographed dance. Each moves and strikes and sways and blocks as smoothly as if it were as easy as breathing. Evenly matched, or nearly so.   
He huffs, clearly irritated at how she’s laughing.  
“You are not taking this seriously.”  
She just laughs at him as she spins away from his next attack.   
“Why would I? You’re cute when you’re getting mad.”   
He rolls his eyes before stepping directly forward to engage her with a forward grapple. Their fingers lace together and each grunts as force is exerted.   
Calamatta is strong. An elite warrior by birthright. But Vegeta is stronger.   
She watches his grimace of effort slowly turn into a smirk. He KNOWS he’s stronger.  
She tries to break the grapple and twist away, but his grip is like iron as he spins her back to him and pulls her to his chest.  
“It’s the beginning of the end, Cala.” She can HEAR the ego dripping from his voice as one hand traps her to him and the other lifts her shirt. She can feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing into her lower back. He’s turned on by this.   
“Oh? So soon? That’s a shame….” She tosses him a Cheshire cat grin over her shoulder.  
“Mouthy little wench!” He snarls out a laugh as he takes her to the ground, still gripping her tightly. She can taste dirt in her mouth.   
His free hand yanks down her pants. The pauses to softly grip one of her full ass cheeks, massaging it almost reverently.  
“Well? Any more quips?” His hand now travels up to lightly pet her full furry Saiyan tail. “Or will you yield?”  
She arches her back, shamelessly pressing her bottom into the bulge she can plainly feel thru his pants.   
“Oh I’ll never yield. And you better make this worth my while….. or I’ll kick your ass.”  
He snarls then, angry. And rolls her to her back, pulls his ruined armor from his body as well as his shirt. Falls upon her. Kissing her with the hunger of a starving thing.   
She laughs as his lips connect, almost mocking. He growls. Fumbles with her shorts and panties, pulling them the rest of the way off. He doesn’t bother with her boots and so these lower garments remain upon one of her ankles.   
And he wastes no time. His own pants are bunched at his thighs as he thrusts into her body. And now she coos, her nails raking into the skin of his back.   
He reaches up to grasp her hair, yanking her face to the side, and she yelps as she feels his teeth dig into the sensitive skin around her pulse. He’s quite rough. Hungry.   
But there will be no defeat today.


	10. Day 10 MetaCooler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> pain  
> Goretober prompt: revenge  
> Kinktober prompt: vehicle  
> Song used: After Hours by Night Runner  
> Yeah skipped day 9 cuz I JUST wrote a strip fic recently lol

His hand. It feels like a manacle upon your wrists. Cold merciless metal. Behind your back. Wrenched so far that your shoulder’s pull painfully at the sockets. You can feel that chest at your back. Steely. No give.   
Your jaw aches where his other hand holds it. Squeezing the bone as he forces you to look at the horror before you.  
It’s Cooler. Or rather, what’s left of him. Remnants of his head, one living eye glaring at you. The other robotic. There’s no mouth to speak of. Yet his voice thrums around this place. Whispering of assimilation. Of revenge.  
And he watches you as that copy of himself, that metal vehicle for his conscious, releases your chin to stroke your cock. That single baleful living eye mocks the helpless pleasure on your face.   
It’s grip is oddly gentle. There is no lubrication, but it’s fingers are so smooth that there is no friction. And it’s cold. But the forbidden nature of this soulless thing, with it’s alien thoughts, making your body feel good simply to mock how weak willed your kind is. You are helpless.   
And you love it.


	11. Day 11 Frieza (final form)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> dubcon, pain  
> Goretober prompt: Nails  
> Kinktober prompt: control  
> Song used: Re-Creation by Orgy

She sighs as his face nuzzles into her neck. She can feel his nostrils flair on this tender skin, his breath so cool. Strange. She knows he doesn’t need to breathe.   
The answer to this riddle soon becomes obvious as he inhales very deeply. He’s scenting her.   
“That’s very good. You enjoy having so little control, don't you? Hmmmm?”   
“Oh yes. Yes, my Lord. I do.”  
That breath now tickles as he chuckles along the skin of her jawbone.   
Her hands clench and unclench, the knuckles pale, at her sides. The icy gem upon his head now brushes her collar bone as he rests his head upon her naked chest.   
“Your pitiable little heart. I wonder how pretty your eyes would look if I tore it from you.”  
She says nothing as his pale hand, pointer finger extended, traces little shapes into the skin between her breasts. Pausing to jab the puckering bite wound on her ribs. She can feel his lips curling into a grin as she flinches in pain.  
She isn’t afraid. He’s very mercurial. Sometimes hurting her. Sometimes being very gentle, as he is now. But he’s told her that he has no intention of killing her.   
Either way, she has no choice. She cannot possibly hope to escape him. And Frieza takes what he wants. It just so happens that, right now, it is she that he wants.   
“Your subservience pleases me, pretty thing. Would you like some compensatory action on my part?”  
“No. I need nothing.”  
“Pity. I’m feeling generous.”  
His movements are simply too fast to be comprehended as that hand which had been touching her now travels down to grasp her leg, pulling it around his waist as he hilts himself fully within her.   
She cries out. He’s already used her several times this evening and she’s very sore.   
And he moves his head just as quickly. His mouth covers hers to greedily swallow these cries. He likes her discomfort.   
She can feel his tail wrapping around her leg to give a gentle pulsing. As if he’s trying to soothe her. And its effective. She relaxes around him.   
He breaks this parody of a kiss. Pushes himself up onto his hands as he begins to fuck her with wild abandon. There is no sign of exertion or stress on his face. Just that smirk as he looks down at her.   
“You may touch me.”  
It is phrased as a granting of privilege, but she knows he will be angry if she doesn’t take the hint.   
She wraps her legs around his hips. She knows he likes it when she shows enthusiasm. And, to be honest, it feels divine to be filled by the Emperor.   
Her hands travel up to his back and she digs her nails in to rake them down the skin here. The tiny clipping sounds of her nails scraping along his microscales can be heard between her moans. This action hurts. He’s impervious to her weak human hands. The skin remains pristine. And she’s never done this before. Perhaps he’ll be displeased.  
She doesn’t care.   
His perfect teeth flash as he grins at her.   
“Fiesty thing.” He laughs. “You’re delicious when you think you can hurt me.”   
And he leers at her as she comes to these words, no hitch or break at all in his brutal pace.


	12. Day 12 Hit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No...... actually no trigger warnings here. I mean stalking maybe? But like she WANTS it so???  
> Goretober prompt: lurking  
> Kinktober prompt: risky  
> Song used: Ready Or Not by Oomph!

His kiss is gentle fire. You’d never even heard of Hit being in a romantic relationship, yet he’s kissing you like a damn pro. Lips pressed firmly, just enough for your head to tilt, a smooth expression of dominance.   
“I want you.” It’s a quiet demand against your lips.   
You pull away and grin playfully. Press your hand against his chest. He allows you to push him away.   
“Than catch me.” You take two steps back, lift a hand, and wriggle your fingers in a wave as the door swishes closed between him and you and the train begins to move. But just before it does, you see his mouth, bottom lip still shining with your saliva, curl into a hungry smirk.  
You’re smiling like an imp as you turn and walk calmly from the platform. It’ll be a bit before that train stops again. But when it does…….. you are deliciously doomed. Nobody gets away from Hit.   
“If you’re not even going to run, this is going to be a little too easy, don’t you think?” His deep voice rumbles behind you.  
You freeze. How in the actual fuck did he get off that train?? Time skip?   
You don’t bother to turn. You do as he wishes. You RUN. You’re aching for him, but it’s kind of fun to be pursued like this.  
Leaving the station, you immediately head for the crowded streets, keeping your head low. Trying to be discreet. You know he can’t really do anything in a whole ass crowd. Can he?  
You see glimpses of him often. Leaning against a building here. Tilting his head at you from there. It’s the hottest game of cat and mouse you’ve ever played. You see him again and, in trying to whirl away from him, you slip and fall.  
You hit the ground. Hard. The air is knocked from your chest and you wheeze as you clamber to your feet and stumble on. You gotta admit, this tactic is getting you a little turned around.  
The street is crowded. Everyone in the city moving in throngs. Some of them stop to stare at your flushed face, your rumpled clothes. A few even ask you if you’re okay.   
You blush even harder, tell them you’re fine, and try not to run. Instead, you choose to join one of these groups of people. Still trying to blend in.   
After a time, you stop seeing him. But you’re not fooled. You know he’s lurking around somewhere. Your tummy flutters eagerly.   
Your just walking near a shop front when you feel a vice like grip on your arm, pulling you into the adjoining alley.   
A hand is clamped over your mouth before the yelp escapes it. Another hand slips around your waist and your back is pulled against a very muscular chest. Hit’s breath tickles your ear and that deep voice thrums against you.   
“I caught you.” And he chuckles as that hand on your waist begins to slide along and rub your tummy.   
“Here???” It seems so risky! Anyone could turn into this alley and see the both of you under this awning.   
“Maybe.”   
You turn your face. Grin at his face, and kiss him as you press your bottom into his groin.   
You can feel how hard he is for you.


	13. Day 13 Andoid 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> suicide, overdose, alcohol abuse, prostitution   
> Goretober prompt: suicide  
> Kinktober prompt: lingerie   
> Song used: Synthetic by Spineshank
> 
> Omg this is in no way based on canon. Just me being dark af for literally no reason

The images swirl throughout your subconscious. The light of the stars, shining down. Delicate blue light upon your skin.   
You had been happy once. This much you know. A long time ago. You can remember shrieking with laughter, your brother’s hands clasped in your own, spinning as fast as you could. Spinning until you were dizzy. Whoever fell first lost under the carefree faces of these stars. You had been so small………  
At some point, things had gone bad. You can’t really remember. Your father had left. Your mother had fallen into despair. No physical pain. It was simply as if her body existed and her mind no longer did. You remember whiskey bottles and a hollow empty look in her eyes.   
You remember the cold stare of your brother as he’d clasped your hands, similar to when you had been young. But there had been no laughter this time.   
That night, with twin book bags full of as much food as the two of you could carry, you’d set off. Left home. Those same stars staring down blindly.   
The images get more fuzzy, as if your mind is trying to subdue them. Or maybe it’s that strange male voice you don’t recognize…….  
The things you’d had to do to get money to eat……. Painful hunger and unknown fingers skimming over second hand lingerie………  
“You must kill Goku.”  
There’s that voice again. Is it god? Surely not. It sounds so cold…..   
More images. You are an adult now. The only person in the world you trusted was your brother. And then he’d gone missing……. You couldn’t find him no matter how hard you tried.  
He’d always told you to be strong. To never give up. But this seems so pointless and hollow without him.   
Despair.  
“Your power will be inexhaustible.”  
That terrible voice again. And pain.   
The image of your right hand dumping a bottle full of pills into your left hand. A glass of whiskey to wash them down. Your mother had been right all along……..  
Darkness. Blissful and eternal. That’s what you’d been after. An end…… an END………  
And things were indeed dark for awhile……..  
Then new images flooding in. The face of a man. Older. Wicked. Telling you that you will be okay. That you have a reason to live. A new purpose. That voice….. that face……..  
Data. Information. Stats. Power levels. Your body changing…… or rather being changed…….  
Those old images suddenly become dreamlike here in this void. They no longer matter. You……… have a new purpose.   
Airlock sounds as the chamber of your storage tube is opened. The light of the laboratory hitting your flawless eyes. The perception of everything. Of all. Your muscles, once weak and human, now godlike and powerful. Those old memories……. Just a dream…….  
You look over and see your brother. And smile. He’s here. Everything will be fine now.  
You look to the other side and see that man. And your new memories finally push those ancient ones out.   
You see the controller in his hand. Know instantly what it is for. Your eyes slide back up to his cold blue ones. And you greet him as one would greet an old friend, knowing full well……… you are going to kill him.  
“Hello, Dr Gero. How have you been?”


	14. Day 14 Vegeta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> Little bit of violence  
> Goretober prompt: tarot  
> Kinktober prompt: workplace  
> Song used: Crown of Thorns by Black Veil Brides

“And these tell your fortune?”  
Vegeta sounds mildly amused as he lounges on your bed and toys with your tarot cards. He looks, quite frankly, hot as hell laying here, on his side and very much shirtless. One hand propping his head up. Oddly catlike, even in sweatpants. His tail curls sedately behind him.   
“Oh yes! You want me to read yours?” You brighten at the thought. Eager to share this little piece of yourself with him. Especially since he’s not outright scoffing at this thing you like to do as other people sometimes do.  
He rolls his eyes, but he seems in good humor.   
“Oh, very well. But make it quick, will you? I have…… other activities in mind.” He’s leering at you and you blush.   
It doesn’t take long. You choose a simple 3 card layout. Past. Present. Future.   
You never make it to future as this deck of cards is carelessly dropped off the edge of your bed. The cards scatter haphazardly, completely ignored as the sounds of your moans permeate the air.   
The next day, you’re daydreaming about this scenario at your job. You work at a lab, so losing your concentration like this doesn’t encourage effective work. All you can muster is an affectionate rolling of the eyes as you attempt to accomplish SOMETHING.   
Most of the day, you’re stuck in this intermittent cycle of attempting to pay attention to your job when you’d very much rather be at home. In bed with your grumpy enigmatic Saiyan prince. Grinning to yourself.   
You’re in your office, doing documentation, when there’s a worried knocking at the door. And then there’s a shout in an angry, and very FAMILIAR voice.  
“GET OUT OF MY WAY, IDIOT!”  
A nervous apology from a lab tech. You rush over to the door and open it. And there he is.  
Vegeta is holding the poor guy by his shirt collar, just staring daggers into him. And the guy looks utterly terrified. You feel sorry for him. Vegeta might be short, but you are well aware of how strong he is. This tech, apparently, was NOT.   
“Geets…. Its okay! Just…… just come in….. it’s really okay! Hey….” You’re speaking to the tech now. “He’s just my boyfriend.”  
“Just???” Vegeta looks annoyed. But he releases the poor guy.   
“Geez! Maybe you guys should hire some actual security! I was just trying to help!”  
A scowl from the Saiyan quickly sends him away. You grab his hand, trying to yank him inside your office before he manages to scare the shit out of any more of your co workers. He lets you. You know he’s letting you. He’s too strong for you to pull against his will.   
You shut the door then turn to him, laughing despite yourself.   
“We’re really gonna have to get you a phone. I thought you were training with Goku?”  
He crosses his arms and huffs, clearly annoyed.  
“Kakarot can train with himself for a few hours. I wanted to see you.”  
You blush and smile.   
“I get off in just a couple of hours. Can’t you wait until then?”  
He smirks.  
“No. Why wait when you can “get off” right now?”  
Your blush deepens. That’s your Vegeta. Always painfully direct.   
“So impatient. You didn’t even let me read your full fortune before you had to have me. Don’t you want to know your future?”  
He stares at you. Straight up glares for several moments. As if he’s shocked that you’d question him in the first place.   
Then, he snatches your arm, pulling you to his armored chest. You feel the edge of your desk biting onto your bottom as he leans into you, kissing you harshly.   
You dimly register the clattering noise of him sweeping his arm over your desk, clearing it. Your arms wrap around his neck as he grasps your ass and lifts you to sit on your desk, your quivering on either side of his body. He murmurs into your mouth.  
“Silly woman. You ARE my future.”


	15. Day 15 Frieza (First Form)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ain't a single tw worthy thing in this save 6ft social distancing rules not even thought of.  
> Goretober prompt: sick  
> Kinktober prompt: kissing  
> Song used: Gold by Eurielle

The entire ship is quiet today.   
The Emperor is ill. It’s just a head cold really. But, from the behavior of the crew, you’d think he was on his death bed. Although, it isnt sadness which plagues them all.   
It is fear.   
Lord Frieza is renowned throughout the universe as having a very succinct temperament. But apparently, this is bubblegum and kittens compared to his temper when he’s sick.   
You are not afraid. As his mate, you are afforded both attention and difference, the likes of which are unknown to even his most skilled commanders. But you might be feeling just a teensy bit apprehensive, and have stayed away most of the day. Just to be safe.   
You’re missing him tho. And decide that his wrath is worth the risk. The ship just isn’t the same without him lording himself about in that self assured and, quite frankly, rather sexy way of his.   
You round the corner of the walkway just before his (and your) quarters. And stop.  
There’s an underling. A very short pudgy orange fellow. Holding a tray and just standing there, visibly terrified. He jerks, nearly spilling the contents of the tray as you address him.  
“You there. What are you doing?”  
He looks at you. Gulps.  
“Oh! Thank the gods! You’re here! He requested soup. And has slain the last 2 men that tried to bring him some! The very moment the door opens……. And he has been absolutely snarling for you, my lady!”  
You blush crimson. You’ll never get used to titles like that. But he’s INSISTENT on them. And, no matter how many times you instruct crew members to refer to you by your NAME, they dare not refer to you by any other titles but ones like THAT.  
“Well, I guess I’ll just fix both of those wants then.” You reach for the tray. The fellow practically throws it at you while visibly wilting in relief. Then scuttles off, throwing murmured apologies over his shoulder.   
You take a deep breath, square your shoulders, and enter.   
And it takes every ounce of your willpower to keep your face bland and placid.  
Lord Frieza, Emperor of the universe, Master of all these planets and stars under his dominion……. Wrapped like a lacertilian burrito in every blanket and pillow he must possess. One little horn sticking out of the fray. The other causing the bedding to poof out at an obscene angle at the other side of his face.   
His nose is stuffy and raw looking. Poor thing. But the absolutely murderous look on his face negates any helplessness that might have been perceived.   
“Where have you been??” It’s a croak.  
“I figured you wanted to be left alone, my Lord.” I walk over to the bed, setting the tray down on his bedside table. “I brought you some soup, tho I don’t know what kind it is.”  
“I do not wish to have any soup.”   
It’s hard to keep a straight face. You can’t help but think of the cliché of men being awful when they are feeling unwell. And he looks so adorably petulant. Of course, you know better than to ever verbalize this.   
“Well, it’s here if you want it. Is there anything else I can get for you?”  
“You. Get OVER here.” He’s practically hissing, and the command is pointless as he’s already dragging you towards him with his ki.   
It certainly must look comical, being drug face first over the mattress of this giant bed like this. But you neither protest, nor resist. In fact, you feel almost giddy at him wanting you near him badly enough to do this.  
Even before you reach him, his tail snakes out of this veritable pillow fort to wrap possessively around your waist.  
If you did not now him as you do, the action of literally physically pulling you into this lizard burrito with him would have terrified you. As it is, you must nearly meditate to keep from giggling about it.   
He’s not satisfied till he’s embracing you, till it’s now a humanoid lacertilian burrito. He grunts, pressing a tissue he got from kai knows where to his nose, and sneezes. You coo to him and just hug him. He grunts again, his voice disgruntled.  
“How dare you deny me your warmth. I ought to punish you.” But his words dip to a murmur. He’s ALREADY beginning to fall asleep.   
“I’m very sorry, my poor Emperor. This cold is really taking a lot out of you, isnt it?”  
“Hhft.” It’s a satisfied sound more so than assent.   
You cant move all that well. You both are very soundly wrapped. But you kiss the gem atop his head affectionately.  
“Its like the lord of colds.” You’re grinning.  
His eyes snap open, the blood red pupils bobbing over to look at you as if you are a particularly nasty booger he just picked from his nose.  
“Noooooo.”  
“I guess…..”  
“Don’t do it.”  
“You could say…….”  
“Don’t say it.”  
“It is……”  
“I’m warning you…..”  
“A King Cold.”  
He sighs the sigh of an old man dealing with a very errant child.  
“Cease your idiocy and kiss me again, monkey. And know that, when I’m feeling better, you shall pay dearly for that.”  
“Of course, my Lord.” You grin warmly as you kiss him, not caring a whit that he’s sick.


	16. Day 16 Perfect Cell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING  
> death, canon character death, suicide reference, vore, depression, mental illness  
> Goretober prompt: running  
> Kinktober prompt: morning  
> Song used: In The House In A Heartbeat by John Murphy

He’s dark today. There’s none of his usual amusement he shows at, what he views as, my asinine behavior. None of those ribs about my habits, nor any of that mockery of my foolish human emotions.   
He’s just standing there, arms crossed, staring out that window at the trees, and the sunrise, face entirely expressionless. I know he’s capable of standing there FOREVER.   
He doesn’t acknowledge my presence, although I KNOW that he’s perfectly aware of it. And this doesn’t bother me. In a sea of unmedicated ADHD, this calmness he often displays calms me as well. So I just stand here, admiring how damn pretty he is in the lessening darkness of a sky giving birth to a new day. And wonder what he’s thinking about.  
I do that a lot. Wonder what he’s thinking about.   
“Come here.” It’s a quiet rumbling command. One I instantly obey.   
I walk to him. He doesn’t move. So I just turn and stand next to him, looking out at the same horizon which he is.   
Its really pretty actually. There’s snow, the first of the year, which has crept in and dusted itself all over everything in the secrecy of night as snow is so often wont to do. And as the first rays of the sun spear out into the dusky sky, it glimmers like the front of those Christmas cards. The black and white ones with the forest scenes and all the glitter. The “rich people Christmas cards" as my mother had once called them.   
As if on cue, a deer steps out and pads thru the trees, its breath steamy and hazy. The scene is complete.   
“Do you ever think anything is beautiful, Cell?”  
He turns to look at me. There is absolutely no change in his smooth expression.   
“Yes. Every day.”  
He’s looking at me so intently, unmoving. I blush, but I press.  
“And you still want to destroy this planet?”  
“Yes. I do.” He’s still looking at me.  
I deflate a little, but I’m not upset. I’ve never been normal. Not by any sense of the word. And I’d prefer the naked brutal honesty which he gives me over a pretty lie ANY day.   
“Why?”  
“It is my purpose. My destiny. What I was made for.”  
“You don't have to do something just because you’ve been told to, ya know.”  
The corner of his lip twitches, the barest hint of a smirk.  
“Oh, I am aware of this. But I also WANT to destroy your planet.”  
“Why?”  
“I have already answered this. Several times, I might add.” His face is smooth again. He really likes pointing out when I repeat myself. Which is a lot.   
“Besides destiny blah blah blah. Why do you hate the earth so much?”  
He grunts a single chuckle, tho he’s not smiling.  
“I don’t hate the earth. And it isn’t my only target.”  
“You have other targets? Like what?”  
He turns his face back to look out the window, his pink topaz irises flickering to follow the slow progress of that deer.   
“Everything. I won’t rest until I’ve destroyed the universe.”  
I look out as well. It’s like I’m compelled to follow his example. As programmed as he is.   
I could keep asking why. But it’s pointless. I know it is. And I’m oddly unafraid.   
“So….. why don’t you?”  
“Hmmmm?” This gets a reaction. He turns his face to me again. Tilts his head in question. I can see this from the corner of my vision, tho I don’t turn to him now.  
“Do it. Destroy us today. Why NOT?” There is no venom in my words. I feel….. inherently detached.   
“Because I am not finished with you, little human.”   
And this, in its turn, gets a reaction from me. Not the words, although they feel wonderful. It’s his tone that makes my eyes widen. He sounds….. almost hurt. Was I supposed to be afraid? It’s been so long since I’ve been afraid of him……. I love him……. And so fear towards him is impossible for me now. But I humor him.  
“And when are you going to be finished with me?”  
“I am not certain I ever will be.”  
“Then when are you going to find time to destroy the earth?”  
“The very day that you perish from it.”  
“That could be today.”  
“Please, do not speak of this.”  
He NEVER says please. I raise a brow at him.  
“And then what will you do? When there’s nothing. When it’s just you floating in space dust. No fear. No sorrow. No joy. NOTHING. What then?”  
“Exist.”  
Now I laugh.   
“You ain’t done with me? You wanna blow everything up? And you think you’re going to be chill when everything is gone?”  
“Yes.”   
He’s being as serious as ever.   
“I’m just a weak human. I don’t understand. I don’t get how such an existence could be stimulating.”  
“It doesn't need to be stimulating. Perfection requires no action. It is only flawless sterility.”   
I finally lose my calm a bit. Not because of him thinking that a blank black eternity would be perfect. But because I’m a silly weak human. My eyes get shiny as I try not to cry.  
“I know its fucked up for me to say this. But all I can think about is you. All alone. All by yourself. Nobody to care about you. Nobody to piss you off. Just you and space dust and the endless expanse of space time. For eternity. Cell…… it sounds so lonely. I don’t want you to be lonely”  
And there’s that beautiful wicked smirk that knocks me off my feet nearly every time I see it.   
“Of course. Silly thing. I had thought perhaps you’d worry about this wretched planet. But, of course you only worry for me. The one creature who does not require it. Now, answer me, human. How would this opinion of yours be affected if you were with me in this scenario? Hmm?”  
“I can’t really answer to be honest. Its impossible. I can’t BE in space like you can.”  
“It being possible was not my question.”  
My eyes drift back out to the snow. I’m just mulling on his question. He turns as well, as patient as ever. He knows I’ll answer when I’m ready. Is always differential to how much longer it takes my flawed human mind to formulate responses sometimes.   
I consider the idea of it. Just me. And him. Weightless and eternal. And I feel more tears prickling.  
“I hate myself, Cell. And, unlike you, I hate this planet. All I know is that I love you and I don’t care WHAT you do. Destroy everything or remain here till I’m dead. I’ll always love you regardless.”  
“I know you do.” This neglect to return my sentiment doesn’t hurt like it once had.   
He’s never told me he loves me. I’m not even sure if he CAN. But I know that actions speak louder than words. And he’s been more constant and calm and patient and PRESENT than any HUMAN has ever been. If that ain’t love, it’s still damn worth it to me.   
He continues. And it sounds strangely like he’s thinking aloud.  
“When I absorbed my siblings, I acquired their strength and power. But I did not acquire their emotional complexity. There is no need for it. And yet…… I find myself wondering what it must be like to feel as you do.”  
“As I do?”  
“The depth of your little mind. The strength of your human heart. It is the only thing that interests me here. And I wonder what that feels like.”  
“I wish you could. More than anything else ever. I wish you could. And not because I want you to love me. But……. I think if you could feel happiness you might not think of perfection in the same way as you do now.”  
I feel his large hand gripping my shoulder. He turns my entire body to face him. I feel the fingers of his other hand hook under my chin to pull my face up. His expression is no longer blank, nor is it amused. It’s……. Questioning.  
“You want me to be happy?”  
“More than I’ve ever wanted anything else.”   
“I had not mentioned happiness.” His thumb brushes my lower lip. “I had merely spoken of your emotional intensity. Are you saying that I make you happy?”  
I don’t answer. But a single tear leaves the corner of my eye.  
He watches it trail down my face, those irises constricting to focus on it, before they dilate again and focus on my own eyes. Mechanical. Unnatural. Beautiful.   
“Cell….. kiss me…… please……”  
He does far more than kiss me. And there are no words spoken at all as he lifts the over sized shirt I’d been wearing over my head. I had slept in it and am wearing nothing else. The frosty pane of the window is almost painful on my back as he lifts me to sit on the sill. I sigh and part my legs for him. He’s more gentle than he’s ever been.   
Later that evening, he’s watching me eat. He doesn’t need to eat himself. But I rarely do and he knows this. It’s often he who reminds me to do so.   
I’d used to be kind of intimidated by him standing there, all big and scary. But now, its comforting, to be honest. He cares in his own way. Or at least it seems like it.   
“Have you ever heard of the Dragon Balls?”  
His question catches me off guard. He doesn’t usually speak when I’m eating. He almost sounds…….. impatient. It’s an alien tone for him. He’s never, not once, shown anything but infinite patience towards me.   
And I do the same for him now, setting my fork on my plate and looking at him.   
“No. I haven’t.”  
“Seven magical orbs with the power to grant any wish.”  
“Oooookaaay?”  
“I have resolved the issue of my fulfilling my destiny while still honoring your desire of my never being lonely.” He looks very proud of himself. That handsome vain smile is as infectious as ever. I grin as well.   
“Oh? Maybe leave earth alone?”  
He rolls his eyes playfully.   
“Hardly. I’m going to assimilate you.”  
The small bit of food in my mouth suddenly feels like dry leather.  
“…….. Assimilate me? You mean absorb me? Like you did the androids.”  
“No. I absorbed the androids. But, with these dragon balls, I should be able to assimilate you.”  
He’s in a better mood than I’ve seen him in in a long time. And he’s looking at me as if he expects me to feel the same. And finally, after all this time, I feel afraid.   
“You’re going…… to kill me?”  
At this, his grin fades. He marches over to me, yanking my chair out. Picks me up like a china doll. Cradles me to him just as gently. I can feel his breath on my neck.  
“Why would you ask me this? Have I not behaved exceptionally towards you? I am capable of great atrocity, but I will never hurt you.”  
I feel numb. Wrap my arms around his neck. Close my eyes and just lean my head into him, my nose pressing into the baby soft skin of his neck.   
“You gotta clarify, Cell. I’m frightened. I don’t understand. Assimilate? Absorb? What’s the difference?”  
He stiffens, belts out the textbook definition, almost autonomically.   
“Absorb. To take in or soak up.”  
“Like you did with the androids?”  
He doesn’t answer but presses on.  
“Assimilate. To take in and understand fully.”  
“That’s a pretty thin difference.”  
“Not at all. The difference is profound.” He’s not detoured at all. “With the dragon balls, I can wish that your consciousness will remain with me. Your sentience. In my mind with mine. And then absorb your form.”  
He sounds almost joyous.   
“But why would you even need to absorb my body?” My logic battles with my fear of this unknown desire he’s laying bare to me.   
“I have already told you why I might.” His deep thrumming chuckle feels so pleasant along my body. “I will feel what you feel.”  
“You’re not worried that this will make you NOT want to fulfill your purpose? I do kinda lack the same desire to destroy the earth that you have, ya know.”  
His face lights up. Almost childish delight. I have never seen an expression like this on his face.  
“If feeling as you do is intense enough to negate my purpose, I’m only looking forward to our union even more! I will be free!”  
Hearing this from him hurts. Not for me. But for him. I wonder if he even realizes what he’s said. Imagine not even realizing that your purpose is a cage…….. that the only way out is to hide behind a weak human heart. I feel so badly for him. This monster, who has never been a monster to me, who is going to destroy the planet, who is literally going to end my physical existence if only to have me with him. Imagine wanting to feel love so badly that one is willing to even consider this, much less do it.  
He releases me. Pats my head. Tells me to finish eating.  
“So, when are you planning to……. Do this?”  
“Soon.” He looks delighted. I don’t question him.  
(The following morning)  
A loud noise wakes me up. It must be cloudy outside. The light coming thru the window is all grey, no yellow from the sun. And I can smell something burning.  
I swing my legs from my bed, my naked feet pressing into the cold hardwood floor. I press my palms into my face, trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. I’m still very groggy. Another noise, and now that I’m not dead asleep, I can tell what it is.   
It’s a distant explosion. Big enough to make the floor tremble. Far enough away that the picture frames along my walls only clatter and shake. I hear shattering glass as one of them falls off the wall.   
“Cell?”   
No answer.  
And this makes me feel afraid. Truly afraid. I haven’t felt fear in so long that it crashes full force now. He ALWAYS answers me if he’s present. What’s happening?   
I pad out into my living room, look out a window. And gasp. The forest is choking with smoke. It’s so thick that its already leaving grimy streaks on my frosty window. Staining the virgin snow pitch black. And more snow is falling, mixing eerily with this smoke.   
“Cell!!!”  
I’m at full fledged panic now as I whip thru every room of my little house. He’s not here. My subconscious chitters and whispers to me.   
It’s him. Whatever is happening. I know it’s him.   
Another explosion. And this one is close enough to make the entire house jolt. I slip and fall, my head smacking painfully against the wall as I go down.   
I scramble back to my feet and return to the back of my house. There are no windows back here. So I yank the back door open.   
And there is nothing. My back porch. My small yard. And beyond that, instead of trees, only blasted stumps and smoky grey emptiness. It’s a ghost world it seems. And my house is the only thing standing at the edge of it.  
And the air is strangely warm. As if, not far off, there is some sort of massive heat source, toasting the winter air. The falling snow sticks to my face like tiny scraps of tissue paper.  
Its ash.   
Oddly enough, I’m no longer afraid. I KNOW he’s here. I can feel him. He’s told me about being able sense someone’s energy. Power levels he'd called it. As he’d chuckled and tried to explain this concept to me what feels like eons ago.   
But that isn’t how I think of it. I can’t just sense anyone around me as he can. Pinpoint locations as he can. But after so long with him, becoming so familiar with him and how his presence feels, I can feel him when he’s near. And the closer he is, the easier this becomes for me. He’d said it’s because his energy is so strong. I myself don’t really know, but in this alien landscape outside my back door, it brings comfort to me. I am not alone. He is here.   
I don’t even hesitate. The pooling ash, seeping thru the spaces between the wood planking on my porch, feels soft and warm on my bare feet as I step out. The air, hot and dry, so odd for midwinter, brushes along the hem of my large sleeping shirt, tickling my hips and thighs in a light breeze.   
My hands become dusty from the ash as I trail them along the railing, slowly descending the porch steps. And then I just stand at the base, my curls whipping around my face. Closing my eyes. Letting myself just feel the direction he’s in. And when I do, I run.  
It’s like a dream. Running thru this dry ashen landscape. Rocks and rubble stinging the pads of my feet thru a thick blanket of cooling soot. Not a single care for if I’ll fall. Just feeling the kiss of these little ash flakes on my face. My eyes still closed. Just following to where he is. A weak moth to the flame of his will.   
A stinging pain flares in my shin as I trip over something. I see it for a brief moment before I fall as my eyes flash open. A scorched branch.   
It is only a temporary hindrance. Ash mixes with the blood on my leg as I clamber to my feet and walk now. My eyes drift closed again. He’s very close.   
“Cell?”  
“There you are. I knew you’d come.”  
My eyes drift open. And there he is. I can’t see any detail thru the thinning smoke. But his large silhouette looms. Its uncanny. There is sunlight, weak and pitiable, trying to press thru the smoke, and it illuminates his shape like an otherworldly being. He’s standing, hands at his sides. He’s not facing me, but the upper half of his body is twisted as if he’s turning to look at me.   
The wind is picking up, and as it does, I begin to see him more clearly. His hands are clenched in fists, one of them holding an old cloth shopping bag. And he’s grinning roguishly over his shoulder at me.  
“Hi.”  
“Come. See your town, made perfect.” He sounds genuinely excited as he extends his empty hand to me. Beckoning me. I feel dread pooling in my belly.   
“What did you do?”  
He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. We are at the top of a rise, and as the smoke begins to clear, and the fragile sunlight rains down, I can see it all.   
The town is gone. Razed to the ground. To the very bedrock. The air above it flickers from the residual heat of whatever had caused this. A wavering mirage.   
And suddenly, I know what’s in that bag.   
“You’re wanting to do it now, aren’t you?”  
“As soon as possible, yes. The guardian won’t live much longer.”  
I have never met this guardian, but I suddenly feel so bad for whoever they are.   
My mind shrieks. A distant echo in my head telling me to be afraid. To run. To beg him to change his mind.   
But, I’m just NOT. This is the price it seems. This is the price of loving Cell. And I DO love him.   
Maybe this is just some selfish reasoning to get out of what he’s going to do to this planet. Maybe it’s a selfish need to be WITH him. To have him love me. Either way, it’s selfish. And I no longer care if it is.   
“Will it hurt?”   
His beautiful eyes are depthless as he peers into mine.   
“Yes. But not for long.”  
“I’m surprised nobody tried to stop you.”  
That devilish gorgeous smirk.  
“Oh….. you know they did, my little human.”  
“What if I say no?”  
He tilts his head.  
“Are you going to?”  
“No. I was just curious. But, can I ask a favor?”  
“If it is within my power, you know I will give you anything you desire.”  
“Once I’m……. Once I’m IN there……. I won’t be able to…….” I don’t know when I started crying, but I can feel the liquid cutting thru the ash on my cheeks. I reach up towards his face, my palms outstretched.   
He chuckles.   
“You humans and your constant hormonal desire for physical contact.” But he lowers his face so that I can touch it.   
“Once this is finished, such things will no longer be important to you. Without your body, you will no longer have that biological drive.”  
This frightens me more than what he intends to do. I don’t want to not want to touch him. But I don’t say anything. Just kiss him. One last time.   
I hear the bag drop. One of his big hands grasps my head. The other my waist, pulling me to him. Pressing me to him. And my heart sings with despair.   
You like this, I think. You like this just as much as I do. Oh! You are making the biggest mistake you’ll ever make! But….. I still love you. I’ll always love you.  
I break the kiss before he does. He let’s me. There’s no way I could pull away unless he allowed it. Maybe he’d just been humoring my desire. Or maybe he WANTED such a lengthy kiss. I suppose I’ll know soon enough.   
It doesn’t take long. All my life, I’d thought dragons were fantasy, and here I am, on my last day, seeing my first.   
His name is Shenron. And he seems almost unconcerned with the world disintegrating around us. Just a giant thing curling in the sky, waiting for us to make our wish.   
Cell looks at me, his eyes unreadable. He’s so beautiful, even in the brilliant light shed by the dragon, even splotched with the soot from his own violence.   
“I had not answered you. You had asked me what I would do if you said no. And the answer is, I would bend to your will. If you do not wish to be a part of me, you need to state this NOW.”  
I just gawp at him. I hadn’t realized that, before today, I had not given any actual sign that I’d refuse him.   
“Will you destroy me with the earth, then?”  
“No.”  
It’s a miniature eternity. Just us looking at each other, the dragon watching silently. As if he knows that his ending is very near.   
I turn. And make the wish MYSELF.   
He hadn’t lied. It did hurt. A lot more than any other pain I’d ever had, tho the memory of that pain seems meaningless now. A pinprick in the expanse of the time between then and now.   
I had made the wish. And at the very moment of my absorption, I no longer felt ANYTHING other than my own emotions and memories. And his.   
And……. Oh his……….  
A voice I didn’t recognize. But I knew it’s purpose. Very similar to the foggy memories of my mother humming to me as she rocked my little body to sleep when I’d been ill. But, where her voice had been intended for comfort, this male voice was instructive.   
This voice was all he had known. Before he could see. Floating in the comforting liquid of his tube. This voice told him what he must do.   
I saw it all. The questioning chortles of this inhuman baby as he burrowed into the safety of the ground. The agony of burning thirst when he had awakened in his mature form. The insipid joy at the terror he bestowed. That need for completion, more painful even than the thirst. That inner calm when his final form was attained. The thirst finally and mercifully sated.   
The way he had felt the first time I had looked at him without fear…..  
He had been lying all along although, in his defense, he did not know that he lied. He feels things with an intensity that my human mind could not grasp at first. And he understood this, as well as my own thoughts, far faster than I understood his.   
It was so strange. To know everything at once. To know every memory. Every desire. Every thought that he’d ever had. His memory is far keener than mine. Photographic. Every single detail noted with godlike precision.   
Every sound. Every smell. Every color. Even those I could not see with my human eyes, smell with my human nose, hear with my human ears. All laid bare.   
His mind is so…… absolutely beautiful.   
And he loves me. Oh! How he loves me! With an intensity so profound that it HURT at first as my tiny human mind tried to comprehend it. All of that time….. he simply had not realized that’s what it was.  
And he saw my mind as well. Surely he must have been a sight. Standing there before the dragon, who withered in turn as that guardian died. Motionless. Drinking in every bit of my memories and emotions and sensory data as if were ambrosia. It had taken me years to see everything in him. It took him a few minutes to see everything in me.   
And he embraced it. Without question. Embraced me. All of me. I am a part of him now. And to him, that makes me perfect.   
Although, every few centuries, he likes to tell me I always was.  
And it’s just as I had said.   
Eons ago, Cell destroyed the universe. And we float here. Together. Unchanging. Just us. We don’t move at all anymore. We don’t speak all that much either. We don’t need to. And it’s……..  
Perfect.


End file.
